Running into a Good Man
by rangerbagel
Summary: Steve Rogers walks through Brooklyn after the defeat of Loki. While out he bumps into a nice, smart dame. She's a Sue with substance, and their story will have more twists and turns, and an M rating because that's a rating best fit for Sues. (Finished)
1. Chapter 1

Captain Stephen Rogers felt the cool Brooklyn breeze on the back of his neck. He'd looked at the cracks in the sidewalk for three blocks. He'd looked up not once as cars drove by, shop windows rattled with talk. It was 9pm, a time for cruising that he never took advantage of in his small young years.

Deep down into the black cold he'd reposed, he'd waited. Perhaps it was fate for him to follow the power of Hydra, the confusing magic or technology of alien gods. He'd pounded through an army that had never been before beheld by the eyes of man. Their monstrous skin looked like the wrinkles of a willow-tree trunk. They had a multitude of thumbs and snarling displeased faces. They looked like animals to him.

Then he thought how we must have seemed so like animals to them. But The Avengers avenged. For Coulson, for the lost New Yorkers in the rubble; rubble that was still full of the sting left behind that faithful day in September more than a decade before the good Captain's thaw.

These thoughts and the Youtube footage ran through him like an old newsreel. He could hear the announcer's voice still affected as if recounting a battle in France, but talking of terrifying planes slamming into buildings so momentous that Rogers could barely imagine staring up at them in wonder.

He'd left S.H.I.E.L.D until they'd need him again. He flew off on two wheels with a smile on his face. But while he remained hopeful, his constant history lessons weighed him down. And this brisk evening he felt mopey. He'd thrown on his new non-standard uniform of jeans and a button-down shirt in a subtle plaid. He'd marveled at how many different types of plaid and checkers there existed in shirts. It seemed as though everything had become more complicated, even clothes. Yet he tried to remain hopeful that he might one day even figure out fashion.

The pocket of his leather jacket buzzed and tickled a jaunty tune. He was startled. After all, this was only the fifth text message he'd received in his entire life. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the complicated smartphone. He'd asked Stark if he had something simpler, but the playful rogue had insisted that if Cap could "Will Smith" an alien horde (whatever that meant), he could be brave enough to handle a touch screen.

So Steve Rogers held a tiny, powerful computer in his hand. He thought about how such a thing would've come in handy during the War, more handy than just for finding directions to a local pizza joint. Cap tapped the screen, hunted for the alert, and discovered that the text message (as the other four had been) was from Tony.

"Pepper thinks you're lonely, and I think you're the ultimate designated driver."

Rogers dropped a giggle. He'd come to find Stark endearing; he was like a concentrated version of his father.

So he tapped the text box and a keyboard sprang up. "True," he admitted to both counts, "but I'm busy." He sent the text. And even though he wasn't entirely forthright about the nature of his business, he did not particularly feel like "partying" with Tony Stark. Clubs and bars and flashy clothes were a bit too fast for him at this point. He consoled himself that, simply, it just wasn't up his alley. His humor couldn't handle another young girl in a tiny dress sliding her body against his without so much as an introduction.

"I guess I'm old fashioned," he thought to himself, "but maybe that's not so bad." Declining Tony's offer actually lifted his mood. Suddenly, Cap felt his boot stick and slide. He stopped and turned. A big wad of gum stretched into a string as he lifted his foot. He grumbled and scraped the sticky stuff off onto the cement.

Rogers filled his barrel of a chest with cool air and looked out at the changes in Brooklyn. Gum on the street. What a shame.

He decided on coffee. Without hesitation he turned and walked briskly eight steps to the corner and hung a hard right.

With that committed movement he slammed right into a shorter figure who yelped. Cap was startled and instinctively began to step back. But he stopped in a second as he realized he'd not only slammed into a young lady, but that young lady was about to fall backwards onto the sidewalk. He swung forward and caught her in his arms.

The scene was romantic and embarrassing. For a truly fleeting moment he held her and looked into her face. She gazed at him with wonder. Her expression was clear and pronounced. Brown eyes dilated at the pupils, she blinked once with soft lashes caressing the tops of her cheeks, and her pink mouth formed the most subtle smile.

Rogers breathed in and felt her soft brown hair brush against the back of his hand. He became aware of his surroundings and let go of her once it was established she could stand on her own.

"I am so..." he flushed as her expression of near wonder remained on her face, "so sorry, ma'am..." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I should've paid closer attention. Are you alright?"

Her smile twinkled. He looked away from her face, but flushed and regretted further when he glanced at her cute and feminine body. He'd held her. How worrisome.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't pay attention either." She clicked her heels together and stood up taller. But she still stood eye level with his soldier's chest.

"It's fine, ma'am. I'm just glad you aren't hurt." He smiled in spite of himself. She seemed quite nice. His awkwardness around women usually resulted in their frustration and anger.

But suddenly she tilted her head and studied his face. The simplicity of her nose, the gentle way her long hair laid across her shoulders like a blanket, and the way her eyes and smile illuminated them all was arresting in the most welcoming of ways. She seemed full of the best kind of mischief.

"Are you Captain Steve Rogers?" She asked with frankness.

The Cap's eyes widened. He shot his gaze to the ground. When he looked up he tried to muster USO charm. "Yes, ma'am, I am..."

"Well, lucky day for me!" She beamed and leaned forward on her toes for a moment like a fidgeting kid. But then she stood still and pronounced, shooting her hand out to him with respect, "Birgit Wolf."

He took her hand and they felt warm together. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am..."

"Birgit."

He acquiesced, "Birgit."

"I have to say, it is a real pleasure bumping into you." She giggled. He couldn't think of anything to say. But that didn't matter because she seemed perfectly happy to continue the conversation herself. "I'm an admirer, of course, of your accomplishments. And I hope you're not tired of hearing it, but thank you for your bravery in saving _the entire planet_ from extraterrestrial enslavement."

He blinked at her ease. He was used to people stuttering or women practically quaking in his presence. Hero worship.

"Thank you ma' - Birgit." He smiled a tight-mouthed smile.

"You're welcome, Captain. Well, I hope I haven't kept you with my blathering. I just figured I'd not likely get another opportunity to thank you."

"No problem. I was just going for cup of joe... Call me Steve" He worried about his slang. But she seemed to understand.

"May I join you, Steve?" Her mouth crooked to the side up into a quizzical, anticipating stare. Seemingly fearless, the mark of the terrified and brave.

He opened his mouth but could not formulate a response. Having no other seeming alternatives he nodded and took his hands out of his pockets. He gestured for her to continue ahead of him. And they walked quietly down the block and into an Italian cafe.

When she walked up to the counter he puzzled over whether or not he was supposed to buy her a cup of coffee. In his day, yes, that would have been the standard move. But then that pattern of thinking had been halted by time and her invitation. A dame asking a guy to coffee. What a new world. So he held onto formality and watched her place an order and pay for it without even a subtle side-eye of judgment.

He ordered espresso. They sat in a corner table, Birgit in a chair and Cap on a bench against the wall.

He found an ice breaker, "You know, I never could find a cup of coffee strong enough. Espresso has been a nice thing to wake up to." He'd started to enjoy puns about his resurrection.

"That's cute," she noticed. "I like it, too, but I can't drink it often."

"Oh?" he asked after a pleasant sip.

"I get a little loopy from all the caffeine!" she giggled and crossed her eyes. He blushed.

"Well then it's probably a little late to start having some now..." he glanced down to her cup.

"Well, I figured it was worth staying up late tonight given my unexpected company."

He smiled and nodded. For someone he'd known for about fifteen minutes, she was more pleasantly easy to talk to than he'd have otherwise thought. In dark jeans and a tight green sweater, the curve of her thigh into her waist and the soft shape of her breasts cut a truly lovely figure. She was a looker, but approachable. Cap wavered between nervousness and pleasure.

"So far I'm enjoying the unexpected company," he tried to push his shoulders back into something confident. He didn't know how well he succeeded, but he did spot her assess his physique. She didn't leer, but he could see her chest rise in a small gasp before she returned her eyes to his face. That truly was a pleasure.

"So, can I ask you a question? I hope it's not too personal." His smile fell. Constant, constant questions.

"Yes..." he agreed, not wanting to be rude.

"How is it that you survived in ice? What is it about the serum that allowed for your cells not to break down? I mean, when you freeze a strawberry and thaw it out, it turns to mush since the crystallization breaks the cells down... but then again, you're not a berry... But oh, yes, how?"

Rogers gaped at her. "Uh. Well..." He tried to search out his memory on everything about him that was super. "Part of the serum's effects includes a heightened regenerative ability."

"Oh yes, I can see that, but to the point of protecting cells against crystallization and the breakdown in thawing?" She'd leaned forward with glee and curiosity.

"Yes." He answered with finality. "I mean, apparently so, right?" He flashed a USO smile. She blushed.

"Yes, I guess it's apparent. It's just a curious thing..." she bit her pink bottom lip and he found it difficult to look away from it and back to her eyes. "I couldn't find any scientific explanations. I guess they're classified."

"I would imagine so, ma'am." He sipped the last of his coffee.

"Birgit," she corrected.

"Birgit," he repeated.

"Do you want another espresso?" She asked.

He looked into the glass, only then noting it was empty. "Oh. Yeah... but..." She took the cup and saucer from him and bussed them before going to the counter to retrieve another espresso and a cup of hot chocolate.

"You didn't have to do that," He blushed. A dame buying him coffee. Amazing.

"I know. Is it ok for a dame to buy you coffee?" She smiled. He nearly choked.

"Yes... ok..." He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I'm just not used to it. I'm not used to a lot of the ways people interact now. Women were different..."

"And men?" She tilted her chin to the side.

"Yeah, them, too," He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know?" he began curiously. "It's strange, when you asked me if you could ask a question, I thought for sure you'd ask how I was holding up, _'adjusting.'"_ He affected the final word.

Birgit became serious. The shift in her face was sudden. "Well," she began, "I can't imagine you'd want to talk about something so personal with a complete stranger."

He smiled and looked down at the table. He nodded. "I wish other people thought like you."

She grinned. "I'm a unique butterfly."

"Not a snowflake?"

"No, I like the spring."

"Me too." They both sipped at their hot drinks and sat in silence for a moment.

"You researched me?" He asked, suddenly remembering her comment.

"Oh, yes..." She said only hesitating after she'd confirmed. "When I was younger I did a project on you for a history class."

He looked at the table and closed his eyes, "Now that's strange. How old?"

"Fourteen."

"Oh boy."

"Don't feel old."

"I don't feel it. But I am." He looked back up to see her head cocked. "But you looked into the scientific data?"

"Well, I did that later, of course, after they found you and your crew saved the world. I was curious again. I spent a lot of time studying the Second World War."

"For school?" He sipped the new coffee.

"Well, more personally. I was born in Germany." He cocked an eyebrow, thinking of her name. "My country in the 20th century was radically altered by two wars. You were part of one. In stopping Hydra, Hitler, you saved my people, too." He took a soft breath in at her appreciation.

The evening progressed. They got to know each other over two hours within a warm coffee house.

"What do you do?" Cap asked her after discussing motorcycles, old movies, and mp3 players.

"I'm finishing my doctorate in physics." She gave a small, proud flick of her eyebrows.

He whistled, "Now that's impressive."

"Thank you! It's very fun. Really, it's just me and a bunch of my buddies breaking things and firing lasers."

"Now that sounds like a fine time." He laughed a little too hard for a moment at the thought and finished with a cough.

"Caffeine getting to you?" Birgit asked.

"No actually. My metabolism runs too high to be affected by any drug." He looked sheepish.

"Well then you're the ultimate designated driver." She beamed. He blinked and covered his face in a laugh. "Whoa, good joke, eh?" She asked.

"Oh, it's just that Tony... My friend... made the same joke a few hours ago." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Tony Stark?" She asked without a hint of nervousness.

"Yeah. He's a character." Suddenly he felt his pocket buzz and whistle.

"It seems like it." She glanced to where the noise came from.

"Sorry... It's my telephone." He patted the pocket.

"I don't mind if you check it. I got one earlier. We can be rude together." She reached down for her purse. Cap pulled the phone from his pocket with hesitation. He looked down at the message.

"Still busy in the amusement park called Brooklyn?" Tony's text slithered.

Cap tapped, "Yes I am."

"What are you doing?" He responded almost immediately. Rogers marveled at how Stark could type so darn fast.

"I'm having coffee with someone." He moved to put the phone away, but it buzzed again.

"Pepper wants to know if it's a pretty girl."

Rogers giggled and looked up at Birgit. She was chewing on her lip and staring at her phone, just like him. He felt very modern for a moment. And bold: "Tell her she is." He grinned broadly as the message sent.

"The lies of an old man," he snapped back instantaneously.

Cap sat the phone down on the table, unable to think of a pithy retort. Birgit was pretty. She was lovely and sweet, and looked at him in the eyes and not the pectorals (most of the time). She'd stowed her phone away with a smile. But then she frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Rogers was startled, "Wrong?"

"You were looking at me very seriously." She tilted her chin down and fanned her eyelashes, puckering her bottom lip.

Cap let out a small laugh. "Oh, just a message. I was thinking..." Then suddenly he remembered something. "Hey, you know these things take pictures? They got a camera in 'em, right?" He held up the phone.

"Yes, they do." She smiled an unpatronizing smile.

"Well, that's something." He looked down at the device. "I hope you won't be offended... Well... I mean... May I take your picture?" He couldn't make a suave face with such a request.

"Oh, sure!" She turned and looked around her with glee. She spotted an employee wiping down the glass of the dessert display. "Excuse me..." she asked with a small wave. The man looked back at her with black eyes. "Will you take our picture?" He nodded.

Rogers gulped. "Well, you know..." he began with the intention of telling her that he didn't want to be in it, images of that old costume and flash bulbs flashed through his memory. But he stopped. Why not take one with her?

He scooted over as she was suddenly next to him, sliding onto the bench. "Your phone, right?" She said. He started and reached for the device. He was lost for a second, but she pointed him to the proper icon and the camera started up. Cap handed the phone to the man, who stepped back. Birgit gently laid a hand on his bicep and leaned her face close to his jaw.

Rogers took a deep breath and thought, "Don't smile like a fathead." The digital flash blew up the room. But the picture had warm tones. He and Birgit genuinely looked to be having fun.

"Thank you..." Rogers said to their photographer. Birgit slid back to her seat and he missed her. "Thank you, too."

"What's it for?" She asked, strangely. Why not ask before?

"Oh well..." He looked down and mulled over actually sending the picture to Tony Stark.

"Are you going to send it to someone?" She guessed, hoping he'd say yes. Rogers looked up and nodded with a tinge of shame. "Oh, to whom?" No judgment in those eyes yet again.

"Uh, well, to... Tony..." He shrugged.

"You want to send a picture of me to Iron Man?" She covered her face and giggled intensely. She stomped her feet a couple of times and Cap remained bewildered. She suddenly stopped, her face red. "Okay. I don't mind..."

With that permission, Rogers took a deep breath and sent the image.

"Why did you want to send it to him?" She asked.

He felt unable to lie. Not the American Way. "Well, he'd wanted me to go out on the town... I didn't want to. Just now he asked what I was doing and I said I was having coffee with someone..." He hesitated, "He asked if you were pretty and I said yes... But he thought it was baloney." She licked her lips and seemed to hold her breath.

"I'm flattered. Color me flattered." She giggled again and looked down at the table.

Cap's phone buzzed again with fury. He tapped it: "Well I'll be a son of a gunmaker." Cap laughed. Birgit looked puzzled and curious. So he slid the phone over and let her look. They shared the triumph.

Another hour went by and the cafe was set to close; not exactly an all-night establishment. So the funny pair gathered themselves together in an effort to move on. Rogers suddenly worried about what would happen from then on, where she would go, where he'd see her.

"So," she interrupted his contemplating, "Can we talk again?"

Oh, now he felt like he could lay on some charm. "Yes, ma'am, I would really like that."

"Well, then tell me your phone number. And don't put me in your contacts list as _'ma'am.'"_ He acquiesced. She took his number and called him on the spot.

"Captain America speaking..." He answered.

"Yes, I have an alien singing in my shower and he's using all of my soap."

"I'll be right over, doll, and I'll pick up a fresh bar on the way." They walked out into the night together. With a few cute words they bid each other goodbye. With another firm handshake they departed. Cap turned the corner back toward home. He reached for his phone and punched in another text, "It was a gas to meet you. I hope to see you again." He attached their photo to the message and felt proud of himself.

Just as he put the device back in his pocket it buzzed: "I love this picture. And you will."


	2. Chapter 2

Birgit walked stiffly, her nose slightly in the air. To see her walking toward you would be to see a woman lead like a ship by a compass of stars. Her thoughts seemed to swirl, images of an extraordinarily lovely night.

She turned corners instinctively and climbed steps without seeing. Once inside her cute apartment she froze just inside the door. In a swift movement she clamped her eyes shut and screamed one rabbid scream. Then she laughed at herself and at the true absurdity of her coffee trip with Steve Rogers.

She flung her keys and purse on the table (where it didn't belong) and plopped on her couch with her phone in hand. She sped for the number and called.

"Dude I'm at the Lab. Are you dying?" Emma mooed sleepily.

"I just spent the evening flirting with _Captain America._" Birgit squawked.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I slammed into Steve Rogers rounding a corner. He fucking caught me in his arms like in a Romantic Comedy that would piss me off in the third act." She giggled at her own joke.

Emma laughed too, "Are you serious? That is way too hilarious! I hate you! What happened?" Her voice sped up.

"So he bumped into me and was all, 'sorry ma'am.'" She tried imitate the era's affectation in his voice. "I don't know how it happened but we talked for a minute. Like, we introduced ourselves old-school style."

"That is unreal." Emma huffed playfully.

"I know... It gets worse, slash, better." Birgit smiled. "He said he was going for coffee, so I mustered all of my courage and blurted out, 'Can I join you?' and he seemed surprised and agreed!" She squeed for a moment and felt like an idiot.

"You had coffee with Captain America."

"I had coffee with Captain America. Man, the whole thing was so surreal that I'm feeling like a weiner tween girl swooning over a boy singer who looks like a hot lesbian." Birgit rolled her eyes at herself.

"No, dude. I would probably be lying on the floor screaming if I were you." Emma sounded totally awake now.

"That's how I feel. It's some My-Fair-Lady-I-could-dance-all-night bullshit."

"Is Captain America hotter than Sexy Rexy?" Emma mused.

"I can't even begin to figure that one out. But let me tell you, he's gorgeous. Way more gorgeous in person. It is beyond absurd how physically commanding and arresting he is. That bitch is hot." Birgit flopped to the left onto the couch, her face in a pillow.

"What else happened?"

"Em, we talked for three hours."

"That's crazy. Is he nice? Stupid?" Emma chirped, wondering if there was a pitfall.

"He's very nice. And he seems pretty intelligent. He was working a really sweet smartphone from Tony Stark pretty well. He was texting and stuff. I know it's probably wrong of me to think that just because he's been gone a long time he's technologically retarded."

Emma agreed, "Yeah, man. We don't really know what day-to-day life was like when he was running around New York."

"Yeah, actually something super amazing happened. He kept getting texts and was super embarrassed about it. But I told him not to worry, so we both checked our phones. It was super normal."

"Supernormal!"

"Yeah! Then he got one text that seemed to bother him. So I asked him what was wrong and suddenly he said, 'Hey, these phones can take pictures, right?' or something like that and I said yes. So..."

"What?"

"He asked if he could take my picture!"

"_Say_ Whaaaaat!"

"It was sooo cute. But I totally played it cool and asked somebody to take a picture of _the both of us_."

"Oh my god, that is so smooth."

"Yeah, man. I was on my A Game."

"_Captain_ A Game."

"Lulz. So yeah, we took a pic. And I asked him what it was for. And oh sweet Jesus, you will not believe what he said."

"I am totally going to believe what he said."

"Good, because the texts he was getting were from Tony Stark."

"Holy crap!"

"Yeah, and he said that Stark was bugging him to hang out, and when Steve -"

"Oooh _Steve_!"

"Shushy! So yeah, Steve told him he was hanging out with somebody and Stark asked 'is she pretty'? or something... and... Steve said yes. But Stark didn't believe him... Soo..."

"Oh my god, he sent your picture to Tony Stark because you're a hot bitch."

"He totally did, because I totally am."

"I want to see!" Emma demanded.

"Oh yeah! I'll send it." Birgit fumbled with her phone a moment to send off the amazing photo of her and Steve Rogers to Emma's email address. "Did you get it?" She asked.

Emma squealed, "That is so cute. You guys look really good together. You can see in his face how stoked he is.

"Yeah, he seemed interested. Shockingly."

"Did Iron Man respond to the pic?"

"He did! He freaking said, "'Well I'll be a son of a gunmaker.'" Birgit tried to imitate Tony Stark as he is in press conferences.

"Holy shit snacks!" Emma bellowed, "That is too funny!"

"I know!"

"Fucking best night ever!"

"Seriously, I know. Steve was really adorable. He kept calling me ma'am."

"That's weird," Emma retorted.

"Oh, totally weird. But it wasn't fake, you know? He wasn't doing that whole classic-American chivalry thing just because he was _supposed_ to. He just seemed like a kind, respectful guy. He totally comes off as the True American Soldier."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked

"Well, the American fantasy of the soldier is that he (sexism, duh) would be fighting a righteous fight for all that is good and pure about America; for freedom and peace. It's a beautiful concept."

"Yeah," Emma interrupted, "But that's still a fantasy."

"I dunno," Birgit interrupted back, "Talking to Steve Rogers for three hours has made me think it might be real."


	3. Chapter 3

Steve Rogers walked out of the Subway and out onto the streets of Manhattan. He'd taken to wandering around the boroughs to see what had changed, who the people were, and how everyone lived in the now.

He'd become a constant student and around every corner was a teacher. He began to wonder about the times he'd been recognized in the months following the battle for earth. He had been rarely approached, only a few times. He had noticed people whisper among themselves, spare some awkward glances, and then conclude that it was too unbelievable to think they were in the presence of Captain America.

Cap's phone buzzed, "Did you take her to a soda fountain for a phosphate?"

He chuckled. It was strange how such a thing as their battle against a demi-god could stir men as different as Steve Rogers and Tony Stark to something like friendship. Rogers also felt a certain strange joy to have worked so closely with Howard Stark and then woken up to fight with his son - amongst themselves and against the enemy.

"I always get the egg cream," Cap responded, stopping a moment to type as fast as he could; he practiced at everything like he practiced against a punching bag (without punching the phone, of course).

"Yeah, that's old timey. What are you doing now?" Damn fast typing.

"Just about to go into central park." He responded and took off down a path.

"Come to the tower and make me an egg cream," Stark bromanced. Rogers shook his head, but agreed to stop by.

An hour or so later, Rogers got bored. So he strode off down the sidewalk toward Stark Tower, which still sported a single "A."

Stark contemplated promoting The Avengers as a brand, but he knew that he'd get no love and support for that one. But, even with the idea unlikely, he (and the Cap) enjoyed having the letter displayed in posterity of such a powerful and exhausting adventure.

The elevator pinged the arrival of his semi-begrudging guest. Rogers strode into the main room as Stark wiped his hands and moved to pour a drink, "I don't think I have anything as smooth as you over here, but if you're thirsty..." Stark sipped.

"I'm fine, Tony." Rogers clasped his hands behind his back at ease.

"So." Stark began, "You're just going to stand there and make me drag details out of you."

"Why do you care so much?" Cap asked.

"Oh!" Stark coughed and moved towards the couches, "After sharing the experience of a planet-saving battle with someone..." He looked up for effect, "they take up a special place in your heart," He tapped on the chest RT.

Rogers laughed briefly, "That's decent of you."

"Well, it's the least I can do for you." He plopped down on the couch and Cap sat formally. After a moment Stark began, "So what's up with this cute brunette?"

Rogers smiled, "Her name is Birgit, she studies physics, and she's very nice."

Stark took a drink, "She sounds fascinating. How long you known 'er?" He smiled as Rogers squinted at him.

But the Cap couldn't help liking Tony; in a strange way having Howard's son around made him feel less alien. So, "I met her last night actually."

"Cap moves fast, I see." Stark crossed his legs.

"No I don't actually," he smiled a charming, relaxed smile that generally made people who like boys swoon a little inside. "We bumped into each other."

"Like..." Stark jerked his head slightly, "literally bumped into her."

"Yes. It was unexpected. I nearly knocked her down onto the sidewalk."

"Well that's very, very cute, Cap. I assume you caught her like a good hero, and held her in your arms." Stark shook his ice cubes. "Are you going to see her again? Seems like love, no?"

Rogers blinked, "I hope to see her again," he looked off into nothing, thinking of her blush. "I don't know exactly _how_ that will happen, but..."

"Did you get her number?" Stark lept up to grab more scotch.

"Yeah. She took mine, too," he called out.

"Well that's equitable. Independent woman." He sat again.

"Yes, I'd say so. I have always appreciated that."

"Independent women?"

Cap nodded and looked down, "I like that it's more common now. I guess I'd want someone who could go toe-to-toe with me, with anybody."

"Oh, that is wonderfully progressive of you." Tony drank.

"So how do people do it now?" Cap raised his eyebrows.

"_Do it -_ What?" Stark raised _his_ eyebrows.

"You know, go out. See a movie? Dancing? Wait - No dancing." He shook his head and tried not to slip back in time like he'd done nearly constantly while he beat bags for weeks.

"Hm. No dancing." Stark looked out the window, "You can do whatever you want, really. Go out, eat, movie, whatever."

"Why do you seem disinterested?" Rogers asked.

"I am interested, just not interested in this style of romance." He sighed.

"What style?"

"You know, having dinner while sucking in your gut" (He was being ironic.) "and inventing a new personality for yourself so you can sleep with each other on the fifth date."

Cap snickered, "Are those the rules now?"

Stark laughed, "I guess if you want them to be."

Cap nodded, "Well, maybe I shouldn't worry so much about rules."

"Now, that's what I like to hear from a super soldier. Call your lovely lady!" He stood and walked ceremoniously toward the bar, "And take her out to the automat." Cap legitimately laughed. "Alright," Stark stood with his hands on the counter, "now where's my egg cream?"


	4. Chapter 4

"I've got it. I'll send her a text message!" Steve Rogers snapped his fingers and departed the gym. He showered for the occasion, then realized it and smacked himself in the head upon stepping onto the bathmat.

Phone in hand, "Now, Steve, what do you say...?" He shook his head and felt totally unprepared for how to do this. At first he blamed the technology. But then he thought about standing at the telephone, twirling the cord, and contemplating what to say should she pick up and say, "Hello?"

"Okay, not so different," He thought. He looked up her number and tried to think of where he'd like to take her. He'd begun to adjust to being among civilians in his new form; after all, he'd have had to deal with a somewhat similar situation adjusting had he "survived" the war.

He snapped his fingers again and typed simply, "Do you like Moroccan food?" He took a deep breath and hoped that he'd come up with a "modern" idea. Due to his truly amplified metabolism, he could eat several calories daily with little effect on his percentage of body fat (lucky sod). So he'd taken advantage of the vast number of different types of cuisine throughout New York.

Birgit spun in a squeaky circle on the old lab stool. "It's from him!" She squealed to Emma. A bookish grad named Ken who was leaving for lunch furrowed his brow.

"Day and a half?" She beamed and pushed her laptop out of the way.

"Yeah, I was going to text him tonight."

"Well, now the wait is over. What did he say?"

"He asked if I like Moroccan food." She jerked her eyebrows up and down.

"Oooh," She shook her head and the short blonde locks bobbed side to side. "How modern!"

"Very modern. That's pretty hot. Though, truth be told, I would've gone out with him to get an egg cream if he suggested it." She smiled, allowing herself a few minutes before responding (you all know you do it so you don't seem desperate).

"What actually is in an egg cream?" Emma wrinkled her nose.

"Eggs, I'd presume."

"Captain A-bvious."

"That's a good one. Alright. I'm replying."

Her thumbs flew, "I love Moroccan food. Are you inviting me out to eat Moroccan food?"

As Emma moved to Birgit's table, she looked up to tell her friend the smooth response she'd crafted. Before she could set her phone down, however, it began to buzz and ring.

"He's calling!" She announced, her eyes rounded.

"Answer, bitch!" Emma slapped the table. Birgit launched off of her stool and ran into the hall (for privacy; you know Emma would've gotten all up in that phone call).

"Well hello!" She answered.

Rogers blinked and wondered if he wasn't supposed to call to answer the question. He figured, after all, it would be more polite to ask a girl out voice-to-voice.

"Hi, Birgit. This is Steve." He took a deep breath.

"Hi Steve, are you inviting me out?" She flapped her eyelashes and held her breath.

"...Yes." Birgit screamed silently. "When could you go?" held a fist to his lips.

"Tonight?" She quirked an eyebrow and decided she _so_ did not care about seeming desperate.

Cap laughed, "That's great. So, how about..." What time was appropriate for a date? "Seven O'Clock?"

"That's great."

"Yeah," Rogers almost interrupted. This idea was gold. "The place I was told to try is near the coffee shop we went to. Do you live near there?" He lifted his head.

"I do. I didn't know there was a Moroccan place nearby. How terrible of me." She started to hope that he'd actually ask to pick her up and escort her there.

"I'll pick you up and we'll go."

She hopped up and down. How classic! "Alright. That sounds great." She spun around. He spun around to grab a pen and a piece of paper to write down her address.


	5. Chapter 5

Birgit stood in the frame, her hand on the edge of the door. She was in dark green again. Instead of a distracting tight sweater, she was in a distracting fitted dress. Though the outfit wasn't as outrageous as those he'd seen women wear since returning, he was filled with butterflies at the form-fitting modesty of it.

Cap stood in the frame, wearing dark-washed jeans, boots, and a chocolate Oxford shirt. Birgit's stomach flipped, her throat constricted. The only thing more unbelievable than his delicious, "retardedly fit" body, was that he seemed just as arrested with hers as she was with his. Sweet.

"You look great." She started.

"Boy, you do, too." He followed.


	6. Chapter 6

"You know, I'm starting to feel the pressure." Birgit admitted to Emma.

"No indication that he wants _teh_ sex, really?" Emma tapped a pen onto the table as they sat eating lunch.

"Well, see, he thinks I'm hot. It's actually obvious. And I don't know how he could be ignorant of my total desire to hop on his wang. So that's no reason. He just seems to hesitate, you know?"

"Three 'dates,' right?" She leaned back in the chair.

Birgit sucked at the straw of her soda. "Yeah. Pretty official dates. It's weird."

"And, what?"

"He's dropped me off each time with a kiss goodnight." She shrugged. Emma cooed. Suddenly, Birgit said, "Ooh! But on Sunday night he kind of lingered a moment. You know," she pursed her lips, "Like, I felt like he waited a minute, kind of mulling over going in for the kill, if you will, but then hesitated. He decided against it."

"Well, why didn't you just go for it?" Emma shook her head, disbelieving.

"Well, the fact that he hesitated - I don't know. I really feel like he's not sure. I don't want to pressure him, you know?" She held out her hand. "I'd be a total dick if I tried to manipulate him into fucking me. It's so tough, though." She drank.

"How aren't your lady bits imploding?" She laughed.

"I don't know! Well." Birgit thought, "How about if when I see him tomorrow night I invite him inside for espresso?"

"Hey, that's a good idea. That's a gentle, but direct signal. Maybe it'll give him the chance to decide in favor of sexing you all night."

"At this point I'd settle for sexting."


	7. The Fourth Date

"Come in and have some espresso with me?" She smiled. He blinked.

This was just the scene Cap had dreaded and looked forward to. Fifth date? Was that the rule Stark made fun of? That morning he'd thought it meant he'd have a whole date beforehand to gear up for the bomb she'd probably drop. If she were waiting according to the rules, he knew Birgit would have no compunction going for what she wanted. He knew she wanted him. He'd wanted her the moment he held her in his arms at his new favorite corner.

He felt at once ecstatic and incredibly guilty. He thought of the tired metaphor, the mantra of his early days as a Super Soldier. "The right partner." "Peggy." Months had passed from when he'd seen her last. Months preceded by seven decades. And from her, the only woman he'd ever loved, he'd savored one kiss. He thought it would be his last kiss.

But now to live on without her. He felt alone, which was familiar, but had to recognize the repeated opportunities to sleep with a woman (and more than one at once) sans effort. He wavered on the old anxieties over whether or not he'd say something humiliating and ruin the deal, and begrudgingly admitting the sureness of the thing. The reality of being a tomcat did not conform to his one-time fantasies.

Peggy.

Birget was not Peggy. But Birget... She was certainly new, modern. Were most women like Birgit? Was she a unique butterfly? He realized that even if she were common, she'd become special to him. One reason was how easily he could talk to her. Though Peggy's perfections were bogglingly numerous, one thing they'd never shared was an ease in communication.

"I'd love to," Steve smiled smoothly and entered.

Birgit's knees wobbled. "Now where are my roofies..." she thought with a giggle while locking the door behind them.

She walked through into the apartment and felt a swell of pride at the fine job she'd done deep cleaning (that shit is spotless).

Steve admired the dark waves of her hair pouring down her shoulders. She took his wrist, inviting him into the kitchen. If she hadn't taken his wrist... hadn't touched him... he would've been able to will himself to leave after having a coffee. He felt grateful with a soft smile, walking into the kitchen and sitting on a stool at the counter.

Then he was a jumble. She asked him questions, offered him things.

"She sure has a nice apartment. Oh, her parents own the building and rent her the room cheap. That's pretty neat. She likes 'nerdy' stuff. That'll be something to 'Google' later. This is no time for an explanation. She wants to sleep with me. Oh boy, I can't avoid it. This is where I face the music." He was filled with a cacophony of choices and feelings and reactions.

"I am going to have tea."

He smiled, "Not up for the caffeine?"

"Yeah, I don't think I'll need any help staying awake." Her expression was steady - just a hint of mischief from her eyelids closing just slightly. Birgit felt thoroughly pimp.

He blinked and thought intensely, "Steve, you have to tell her." She took the moka pot off of the stove and poured the brown richness into the porcelain cup on the counter in front of him. With her tea in hand, she looked at him in the eyes. He'd been quiet.

"I have to tell you something," he blurted. Her face got serious.

"Are you alright?" She sat her mug down. Birgit was filled with abject terror at what he was going to tell her. She wanted to be comforting, however, as he was clearly anxious about the upcoming subject.

"Yeah," he eased, "I'm fine. I just don't really know how to talk to women. And now I'm even more confused because people tell me that there's nothing different between us other than body parts. So, I'm even more lost on how I'm supposed to go about this."

"You don't need to give me a disclaimer. There's no 'right way' to talk to me. Just lay it out there, man." She said it with such ease.

He took a slow, deep breath, "I loved a woman."

Birgit nodded and said before she could think about it, "Peggy Carter."

He blinked, shock and then more shock at how he knew she would know it. A generation or two knew it. "Yeah..." He looked down. "We never went together." He could not look up. "I could never seem to tell her how I felt about her, how I wanted her."

Suddenly Birgit deduced where he was heading. It all clicked into place. She at once was glad for the manageability of the situation and terrified of the gravity of the situation.

"I've never been with a woman. I don't really know how to deal with that." He folded his hands on the counter. After a moment he looked up. She smiled.

A knowing and comfortable smile. It was so very her. He waited on her words.

"Is there a problem?" She held his gaze.

"Isn't that it?" He asked

"That's not a problem."

He shook his head, "Well it's always been a problem to me."

Birgit sighed with admiration. "It's not something to just jump into without thinking about it." She looked back. "So why are you telling me?"

His brow pinched. He ran a hand through his hair. "We've been seeing each other, and I want to talk to you every chance I get. And I think... I think we feel..." The words were caught in his throat and his eyes followed the line of her long neck.

"I want to be with you, but I won't rush you. I think it should be on your terms." She placed her hands on the counter and leaned.

He was moved and gratified. He could imagine Peggy finding it frustrating that he would continue to obsess over what to do and when to do it even after their parting. It was time to be brave. Assess the situation. Gather information. Plan the attack.

"Are you experienced?" he asked her. What relatively little he knew about sex in the modern era, he knew for sure that things had become more transparent.

She was impressed and gleeful. It was an incredible relief that his old-fashioned sensibilities weren't a nuisance in this area (an area that needed stimulating). She set to sincerity.

"Experience is relative, I guess. I don't have any sexually transmitted diseases and I use birth control, both condoms and a female device." She tried to be as descriptive as possible while being within the scope of how much he knew about sexual wellness.

He took a breath in. That was a lot to process, but it made general sense. She continued, "I have slept with seven men and two women." She concluded there.

He blinked. It was a little strange the things people talked more freely about. In his time, it was at least generally known of by most people that sometimes people of the same sex got together like guys and girls do, but it was rarely recognized or discussed; especially not in the Army. Without much in-depth investigation he'd preliminarily figured that since it was more out in the open, there'd been nothing wrong with it all along, and hearing that Birgit had gone to bed with girls was definitely further persuasive. Their meetings, phone calls, messages, and a bouquet of flowers (the first bouquet he'd given) made her a trustworthy ally in his mind.

"So you wouldn't mind my... you know... _lack_ of experience." he sighed. She sighed. He continued to represent what he was supposed to represent. What an archetype.

"I don't mind at all. I would feel very honored if you decided you wanted to be with me." She tried not to bite her lip. She tried not to dip her hip and push her breasts forward. She tried... not... to... seduce...

Green Light, Captain America. She'd let him out; he could decide to put her off. He'd probably have another chance... but... Did he want the second? Or the first standing in front of him trying not express how much she wants him to stand up and take her.

So he resolved to oblige her. He pushed the saucer and cup forward and got up. He walked around the counter to where she stood, her eyes following him. He held onto her arms, closing the gap between them. He took a deep breath and swallowed the anxiety. She smelled like the perfume that taunted him every time he leaned in to kiss her goodnight.

His lips were warm in what started as a chaste kiss. Birgit was stone still, her stomach tightened and other parts clenched. Steve slid his thick hands around her waist and contemplated without much focus on which path he'd take to follow her curves. But he was distracted as her lips parted slightly.

He followed her movement. A warm pink tongue slid from her mouth and teased just inside his. Steve felt his entire body flush at the tickling sensation of her gently exploring him. His fingers clenched against her back, the soft blue cashmere of her (yet another) tight sweater wrinkled and her gray pencil skirt began to ride high as he pulled her body tightly against his.

Forward he marched, at once desiring of every fantasy he'd ever held of a woman. He'd slid his lips along the contour of her soft neck and breathed silently into her ear. He wanted to be the kind of man who thrilled a woman.

But more so, he wanted to thrill her.

With resolve he pulled away. She was heartbroken and in that moment rushed through all of the immediate memories of his chest, hands, soft lips and teeth nipping at her, and his warm tongue that had a talent for sensation. But their parting didn't last.

He slid his right arm up her back. He bent to the right and placed the other arm behind her knees. And with a swift movement he lifted her into his arms. She nearly swooned with giggles. He held her for a moment, their gazes locked, their mouths full of smiles.

"I've always wanted to do that," he beamed, holding her like a knight as if she were as light as silk scarf.

She sighed and squeaked, "I didn't know that actually happened in real life."

He held his breath. "So I'm your first," he said smoothly. She blushed. "Where's the bedroom?"

She pointed to the hall and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him to kiss her as he walked effortlessly.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve Rogers walked into Birgit Wolf's bedroom. While maintaining their makeout session, she reached over his shoulder and flipped on the light. (You know you'd want to see everything, too.)

She kicked her heels off before he placed her on the bed. He followed. She sat up onto her knees and moved to unbutton his shirt, which was short-sleeved in a subtle orange plaid. She'd found it incredibly sexy how it fit his arms and chest.

His mind fluttered. He broke off the kiss a moment and looked into her face, "I gotta admit I don't really know what I'm doing."

She took a deep breath and tried to be caring, but all she could come up with was, "Just go with it. We'll figure it out as we go." She descended upon his mouth again, abandoning her progress on the shirt.

Steve ran through fifty different scenarios for how to approach the situation. He thought of all the acts he'd heard of from guys more bold than he. And of course, he couldn't help but "Google" googling upon first learning of the searchable labyrinth of the internet. But how could he start it off?

His planning had distracted him from the movement of her body against his, their tongues mimicking. But his attention was restored with one simple movement; she raked her fingers along the back of his skull. The sensation shivered through him and he was snapped to attention.

He groaned with virility, a man's groan of resolution. He grabbed her hips, maybe a little too hard, and pressed her to him. His member had similarly found focus and was very firm against her thigh. She whimpered with an internal ache at the sensation. She wondered how much his apparent thickness was due to serum and how much was simply Steve. She guessed it was probably a little of both.

The feel of it fighting against the fabric of his jeans drove him further into a kind of desperate fury at his clothes. He suddenly could no longer stand the separation between them. He broke the kiss long enough to gasp, "Off."

The simplicity of the statement was unquestionable. His hands were suddenly sliding up her tummy, pulling the sweater over her head. He stole just a glance at her breasts elevated by a pink bra. Another first. He ripped the zipper on her skirt. He didn't notice. She did (and was actually thrilled).

And with the sudden awareness of her near nudity, he pulled back to examine her in the dainty-yet-saucy lingerie that was no-doubt specially selected for the evening. He was gratified at the steam in her eyes, her lack of attention to the extent of his admiration for her soft body. She was smooth, with sculpted undulations. She'd lamented lacking chiseled abs and thighs that didn't touch when she walked, but Captain America would have never thought to complain about it. He adored and was enticed by every inch of her.

He grabbed her again and led a line of kisses down her neck to her shoulders. He slipped off a constricting strap and as he approached her breasts, he suddenly remembered how constricted he was. With the realization he was almost frantic. He spun around with incredible speed and pulled off his boots. Before she could fall forward, he caught her again. They steadied each other on their knees, the labored movements continuing. He moved to unbutton his shirt and was momentarily infuriated by the number of them. So he simply ripped the shirt open, buttons popping everywhere.

Birgit squealed just slightly into his mouth. Internally she giggled in between gasps and moans. He nearly ripped the white t-shirt as well, but pulled focus enough to pull it over his head. And then the belt and pants were flung across the room to slap into the window.

"Sorry," he whispered before falling onto his hands as if preparing for a push up. She lay beneath him. He looked down at her, how her hair poured out onto the soft fabric of her bedspread. Her face was shadowed from the overhead light by his. They reposed for a moment, each assessing the beginning of the journey.

She ran a hand up his face, "What do you want?" She asked. It was simply reflex.

Steve blinked and sighed, "Other than you?" He smiled. She grinned and pulled him down for further kisses.

Birgit ran her hands over his chest. She savored the sensation of his clavicles, the incredible firmness of each specific muscle. His masculinity was unlike any she'd ever seen or experienced. Ah, the archetype. She had never thought an archetype could be so overwhelmingly sexy. A pheromone thing? He was also a good man.

She was unable to cease touching him, traversing each bit of skin exposed. But then she came to a precipice. The underwear. She wondered if he wore the Captain America themed boxers she'd seen at Target. They felt softer though, and more fitted. "Rawr" she whispered.

"What's that?" He asked into her ear. She grinned with her eyes closed.

"I was admiring the feel of your incredible ass." She gave it a squeeze. He giggled.

"Not fair," He growled, quickly shifting his weight to one arm. He shot a hand down to grip her thigh and follow the curve of it to her panties. He could easily notice the elevated temperature and dampness beneath them. He was overwhelmed.

He grabbed her hard and flipped them over, wanting to consume her with his eyes. Lying on his back he watched her hair shift and settle across her face and down her back. She gave a little cry of surprise. But then she remained straddling him. She smiled impishly at the switch.

Now was the time to seduce, she thought.

She leaned forward, sliding her hands from his stomach up to his shoulders. She arched her back slightly. It intensified the pressure of her pelvis against his anxious appendage.

Cap reached up and slid the other strap of her bra down her arm. She sat up again, posing periodically as she straddled him, and watched his face as she reached behind to unclasp the hook binding her breasts.

He held his breath. The garment dropped to the floor. He scanned her, followed every contour of her breasts and noted the small goosebumps standing along the skin of them. The coolness of the room and the heat of their play had coaxed her nipples into firm peaks. With slow deliberation, he slid his hands up along her stomach and over the smooth, firm spheres. They were warm and glorious.

He felt her shiver. Air was constricted in her lungs. Birgit was impressed with the smoothness of his hands, the dexterity of his fingers as he slid them around her nipples, exploring with deliciously teasing slowness. It was a shift from his previously hurried movements.

This was to be savored, he thought. This is what he'd been waiting for. In that moment of quiet appreciation of the opportunity to explore her body, he realized that the reason this scenario felt right was that he knew she'd never judge him for his ignorance. And it was obvious in that moment that she wanted to do anything but judge him for anything. In fact, she seemed to thoroughly approve of his pinching and petting. In further fact, she seemed poised to explode already.

"Well," he thought to himself, "Let's see what I can do."

He sat up and slid his hands under her backside. "Fantastic ass," he swore uncharacteristically. She grinned. He lifted her and took a nipple into his mouth. He loved the feel of it against his tongue.

She was consumed by the sensation. He was doing impressively well for his first go of it. Had he been any other man, she might have suspected him of being insincere in his virginity. But she resolved that he wouldn't do that to her, and that their intense mutual attraction was a majorly driving force in their cohesive style of lovemaking.

Oh boy, did she like his style so far. She grinned thinking of how young the night was.

With a similar thought he flipped her over again. With her back on the mattress, he pushed himself onto a knee. In a swift movement he pulled off her panties. He froze again. She lay before him completely naked, a vision familiar and foreign. He practically fell on top of her.

"Your turn." She whispered in his ear before he bit her neck. He pushed back again and stood. He hesitated a moment. But with courage he slid his hands under the elastic of his shorts and dropped them to the floor.

Needless to say she gasped. Birgit a size queen? Not so much. But there was nothing but primitive pleasure to be taken from the sight of Steve Rogers in the buff sporting a momentous erection that she could play with all night. She scrambled to her knees and flung open the drawer for a condom.

"Rubber?" He asked, confirming. Very good.

She nodded and ripped the foil. She sat up, her face close to his. "Can I put it on you?" She asked quietly. He nodded.

She took him in her hand and he rasped. He looked at the ceiling before closing his eyes. She waited a moment, however. He wondered how it was going to feel, but before he could find out, she took time to stroke. He punctuated each movement with moans of increasing vigor.

When he grabbed her mouth with his and held the back of her head tightly, she unrolled the condom onto his erection. He sighed.

"This is it." He said aloud.

Birgit gasped a laugh, "God I hope so." He chuckled and climbed back into bed.

She lay back and opened her legs for him. He studied her, the anatomy of her, the beauty of it. He inched between her knees and gently laid a thumb on her vulva. She held her breath. Steve focused on her face as he slid that thumb slowly over her clitoris. She squeaked.

She'd expected him to be lost. She'd expected to have to guide him through it. But he explored bravely on his own. She was _super_ gratified.

"Are you ready?" He asked her. He knew there was much more for them to do, but he couldn't bear having her lie there, ready for him, inviting him in, and not make love to her immediately.

Her eyelids fluttered, "Yes, Steve... please."

So he propped himself up on his elbows. They kissed chaste, quiet kisses. Birgit slid her hand down his side and reached between them. He let out a gritty growl as she held him gently. With smooth dexterity she placed his head at the hilt of her core. He was invited in by the overwhelming heat and slickness.

"Alright, Steve," he thought to himself, "Here we go." All it took was one curved thrust to enter her. They moaned in unison. His eyes shot open. She was looking at him just as intensely. It took her a moment to adjust to his girth, the firmness of it. She could feel him flexing automatically. He held his movements, similarly adjusting to her tightness. He could feel her clenching automatically.

"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly.

"Don't you dare stop," she commanded, just as quietly. He closed his eyes and smiled before sliding out of her and thrusting in again.

"You feel amazing," he announced a moment later.

"Your cock is incredible," she retorted. He flexed at the compliment and his next thrust was more eager. Her moan took on a higher pitch, while his sank lower.

His pace was achingly slow. She could barely tolerate it. His aftershave was intoxicating and the feel of his muscles contracting under slick skin further taunted her with overwhelming pleasure.

When his face moved to kiss her she ran a hand up his neck and through the hair on the back of his head. With his loud hiss she knew she'd found an on-switch. So she pressed her fingers harder into his skull. His growl was forceful.

For him it was like his motorcycle had punched the gas of its own accord. The pace he'd been desperately trying to maintain as he learned her reactions and pleasures was derailed. His thrusting was feverish, the force progressively more intense. Her voice rose higher and higher, his volume matching.

When he noted that her hand had slid between them and that she'd begun to stimulate herself his tolerance for the arousing short-circuited and he sped off into rapid, deep pumps.

Flashes of memories flickered like a news reel in Steve's mind: The fake hospital room, running down the street on his new legs, the first time he saw himself new and naked in a mirror, Peggy, Birgit on the corner. He returned to the present, feeling fully every bit of her, from her muscles, to her soft peaks, her long fingers, to her pink mouth. Even though he mourned the things he'd lost, he was grateful to be there inside of a beautiful and kind woman. The feeling was even more remarkable than he'd imagined.

The experience was similarly unique to Birgit. The freshness of his desire, the experimenting nature of his lovemaking indicated how long a wait it'd been for him. In the time that had followed their first meeting she'd imagined this scenario in fifty different ways and fifty different positions. This moment was gloriously unexpected.

She felt the rising pressure within her. He made love to her forcefully, setting off shock waves through her skeleton. She felt him tensing, his member flexing repeatedly as he pounded her. Steve mumbled unconsciously in between moans, anticipating what would come next. As he felt himself slipping over the edge he hoped he'd feel her come around him. And when she began to clench, approaching the top of the mountain, they could both feel him losing control. In that moment their moans climaxed; his powerful, rippling orgasm setting off her crashing ecstasy. It was a heart-thumping, organ-pulsing finish that took them by surprise in spite of their feverish anticipation.

For extended minutes they trembled and twitched. Their breathing remained ragged, and the delicious afterglow was bright.

"We made love," he commented.

"Captain A-bvious, you darling," she giggled, feeling high. He let out a small throaty laugh. The grit in his voice was like a purr that threatened to excite her again.

"That was so wonderful," he kissed her neck and dreaded having to remove himself from within her. He remained hard.

"It was," She agreed with a pronounced sigh, similarly dreading his departure from her. But eventually her thighs trembled and he had to climb off of her. They rearranged themselves under the duvet and relaxed.

"My legs feel like Jello," she giggled. Steve wrinkled his forehead, concerned. But he smirked, knowing that she, just as he, was incandescently happy with their coupling.


	9. Chapter 9

Emma rolled into the lab with a yawn at 8am. She shoved half a muffin in her mouth just as her phone buzzed in her purse.

Emma stared at Birgit's message:

"I feel like such a bitch thinking to myself 'I just fucked Captain America!' but can you blame me? Also, he has a huge crank."


	10. Chapter 10

"Boy do you look dreamy today, HappyCap," Tony observed, leaning over into Rogers's dazed view. He hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, sorry," Steve straightened. "Now what?"

"Pepper got back last night, she's coming to say hi." Stark leaned against the couch, noting Cap's somewhat un-Cap-like slouchiness. "And how are you?" He tilted his head.

"Oh," he focused, stowing his non-stop half smile for the moment to look serious. "I'm fine. Same."

"Briefing, yes? Tomorrow?" Stark tilted his head the other way.

Steve nodded, and then felt pulled away by the pulsing images tattooed on his brain. Birgit. She'd opened the curtains to her window to let in the dawning sunlight. They felt in awe regularly over the last two weeks at the most simple, quiet, beautiful moments they'd shared together.

"Atten-tion!" Stark barked.

"What?" Steve took on his soldier's posture.

"What's her name again? Beergut?-"

"Bier-sgit." He drew out her name, closing his eyes for the smile. He tried to hold the puppy love in... Stark was the last guy he'd want to see him like this.

"Oh... _Bier-sgit_ seems to have a lasting effect." He walked quietly over to the counter and lit up the touch pad. "Is that German?"

"Yes," Steve confirmed, feeling more in control.

"Last name?" Stark asked, sipping on his ice innocently.

"Wolf." He took great pleasure in the fierceness of her name; how it suited her.

"Birgit Wolf, uh-huh."

"Yeah - what?" Steve stood. Tony blew up his search engine and tilted the window for Cap to suffer along.

"I want to look her up. So, physicist, doctorate. Very impressive," He scrolled through the entries. "Oh, Astronomy undergrad at Berkeley. That's charmingly impressive to boot. Did you tell her I blew up space? - Oh, jackpot. You will never forgive me for this," Tony popped up a window demonstrating to all the world that it was Birgit's personal blog.

"Yeah, I've seen this. So no surprises, now come on." Steve urged him not to probe further. Though he knew it to be futile, he wanted to throw in at least a little effort to dissuade him of embarrassing him further.

"Well _I _haven't seen this..." He clicked to her ample photo gallery. "Oh, see, here's proof of what I suspected all along. He tapped on an image."

"Yeah, it's from a TV show," Steve explained her costume.

"Oh, not just a TV show, Captain Rogers, that is Star Trek."

"Yeah, so? A lot of people like it, right?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Nerds like it, Steve. Nerds." He nodded and patted him on the shoulder, "Yeah," he clicked through more pictures of her in uniform. "Your girlfriend is a nerd. Hey!" he continued, "Let's look at some more!"

Before he could investigate, however, Pepper slid in. "Steve Rogers, long time no see," She smiled and walked toward him, her fist extended for him to bump.

"Cute, Pepper. Come look at Cap's nerd girlfriend!" Steve rolled his eyes as Tony returned to the pad.

"Girlfriend?" Pepper raised an eyebrow at Rogers.

"Yes, her name's Birgit," he said for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Now that's a mysterious name." She smiled and glanced down at the brunette in Science-Officer blue. "Oh, that's so great!"

"Yes, Miss Pots, she is a real nerd. She's almost a doctor of Physics." He feigned a very serious face.

"Well, that's definitely a lot of nerd cred." She nodded.

Steve was at once thoroughly amused (with weird pride) and mortally embarrassed. He knew that this was only the beginning. There was a chance they'd tease him forever if they saw what had yet been discovered.

"Oh, what's that thing?" Tony asked Pepper.

"It's a Tardis."

"From that owl show?" Tony squinted.

"Dr. Who." Pepper corrected.

"Huh." He looked at Birgit standing in a giant cardboard Tardis, looking positively pleased. "The owls are not what they seem."

"Oh my god!" Pepper squealed.

"Now that is... adorable. Now, Cap," Tony turned, "Do you know this one?"

"It's from Harry Potter..."

"Oh, duh, of course you probably know all about it now!" He pointed. "She's turning Captain America into a nerd!" He drank his scotch heartily as if in need.

"She lent me the books. I like the first one. I'm almost done." He lifted his chin defiantly.

"No spoilers, Tony!" Pepper lifted her hand up to Stark's face.

"I won't," He barely heard and looked closer, "Nice robes. What house is she in?"

"Oh, Ravenclaw!" Pepper and Tony discerned her house colors at the same time.

"Yeah, Okay, she likes 'nerdy' books and television... and movies," Steve interjected (the last addition with a glance at the ceiling). But there was no stopping that train.

"Okay, what next?" Pepper asked. Both Tony and Cap looked up at her in disbelief.

"Man, Peps, two weeks in Milan and you're downright cruel." Tony winked at her. She scoffed.

"You don't mind, Steve, right?" She held out a hand in punctuation.

He sighed and begrudgingly shook his head, "No, not really. But don't look any more at the pictures. Come on." He tried not to plead.

"You asking that so... specifically, "Tony leaned in, "means that we _have_ to keep looking at them."

He scrolled. He and Pepper gasped.

Steve's head dropped. They were silent and he squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"That I absolutely did not expect," Tony began.

When Steve looked up he stared right into Birgit's smirking face. She was in tight, glorious lycra. Head to toe. In red, white, and blue she made a truly savory-looking female Captain America cosplayer. She wore a small mask over her eyes and had teased her hair into a glorious sex mane. The lines of the suit's design hugged her curves in a mischievous way. Each detail lined up perfectly to flatter her.

"The shield looks really good..." Pepper commented.

"Yeah, yeah, she was embarrassed at first when she told me," Steve attempted to deflate the discovery.

But Tony just stared into the image. He seemed almost overwhelmed by the number of jokes he would get out of this moment. The sheer versatility of each setup, each punchline... He would be able to tease Cap... _forever._

So Stark looked up at Steve. His expression was quizzical, as if trying to riddle something out.

"Tell me," Tony began, pointing at the image and switching his view between it and Steve, "Would it technically count as masturbating to a picture of you...?"

"Oh my god, Tony!" Pepper bellowed in laughter. Rogers slapped himself on the forehead.

"That's terrible!" Steve concurred.

"Don't tell her I said that!" Tony jumped in, jumping up.

"You're the worst!" Pepper slapped him on the arm.

"I won't! I won't say -" Steve's voice was lost in the rising noise.

"Don't tell her -"

"Let's pretend you never said that -"

"You can't tell her 'cause she might like it!" Tony attempted to yell past Pepper's verbal blocking. "She's a fangirl nerd. She'll be totally into it. She'll try to get us to slash each other!"


	11. Chapter 11

Birgit rested with her forehead on Cap's chest. She'd called him around 2pm. Fortunately he was just leaving Stark's place with rosey cheeks. In their short conversation they'd resolved to meet at Steve's apartment.

She met him at the door and without a word he bent down and slung her over his shoulder. In they went with giggles. He plopped her down on the bed with a little extra force so she'd bounce. Birgit couldn't help but squeal.

They shed their clothes, running hands and arms over each other. They'd both spent the morning especially lost in the thoughts of each other. The night before they'd walked through the streets of Manhattan after seeing a musical. It was unusually cold for the season and in a moment they realized that the slightest flurry of snow surrounded them. It lasted only a few minutes, but they were left standing still in wonder. It was like magic.

Laying in Steve's arms ignited the memories in Brigit. She recalled the cold and how the sun was shifting its tone to the afternoon.

She remembered his firm squeezing just minutes before. Finally bare and together he'd kissed a line between her legs and explored her feminine parts gently with his tongue. Cap described it as "practice." Birgit described it as "glorious."

Rogers relished her quivering, shivering, quaking, squeaking, coming. When he'd felt she'd had enough, he'd kissed and nipped along her stomach to her breasts.

She'd often put her hands on his chest to push him around. But unless he was very aware of her intentions, he was simply unmovable. So she'd run her hands along his clavicles and said, "Move."

And with that notice he'd fallen to his side and rolled onto his back. Birgit retrieved a condom (he'd bought five different kinds, not knowing which would be best) and unrolled it into place. And then with purpose she'd impaled herself onto him, their fingers raking over each other as she'd undulated, grinding and clenching.

Like so many times before, they'd released themselves in moans and gripping sensation. When they came together Birgit had fallen forward onto Steve's chest. He'd gripped her hips and thrust upward, locking them together while they huffed and caught their breath, periodically twitching with aftershocks.

As Birgit reminisced, Steve sighed and played with her hair. "Tony discovered your blog," he announced without warning.

Birgit's eyes widened, "He did what?"

Steve giggled, "He saw your pictures. He liked your Harry Potter costume."

"Those are my Hogwarts robes, thank you very much," Birgit corrected as she ran her fingers over his hip bone.

"Pardon me," He responded. "He and Pepper seemed to like it, though they did tease me about your costume based on my uniform."

"I'm sure they did." Birgit sighed and closed her eyes.

Steve wondered how Birgit and his small group of friends would get along if they met. (What would Tony say?) Cap wondered if they'd ever meet. Where was this going? Rogers shook his head and resolved that he shouldn't worry, and should instead appreciate how her body felt nestled against his. On top of that, they were in his bed. For a moment he felt completely home.

"I have to go home in a couple of hours," Birgit burst his perfect bubble.

"That's sad," Steve squeezed her close.

"I know. I have to prepare some things and then get up early to meet Emma at the lab." She scooted upwards and fit her forehead under his jaw.

He smiled, "I know. I'd like to meet Emma."

Birgit giggled, "You will love her. She's going to squee when she meets you, though." Cap enjoyed the term "squee."

They stayed together in bed. The room was brisk, but Cap was absurdly warm. "You're my _hot_ water bottle," Birgit mused.

"Then my purpose is to go to bed with you," He ran a hand through her hair. After a few moments his stomach rumbled.

"There's a monster in your tummy. We should feed it pizza!"


	12. Chapter 12

Sated on pizza and an NC-17 afternoon Birgit walked the blocks back home. Eventually her mind shifted, as it most often did, to her work. She mulled over whether or not she was prepared to defend her dissertation in just two short weeks.

She thought of Emma and how indispensable it was to have a Neuroscientist on the project and that when she defended her own dissertation in a year maybe they'd get a chance to work together again. Birgit needed her. Birgit relied on her.

Birgit was also terrified of where she'd go to continue her research. She'd hated trying to explain her work with undergrads. Their eyes would bulge at the very idea. Using specially-calibrated lasers to "beam" information directly into the brain? And why? To unlock the reality of the universe...

It was a thesis that raised eyebrows among Universities across the country. Each prominent scientist seemed amused. But was it really possible?

It was a philosophical idea for Birgit as much as it was a scientific one. The brain could be described as a complex systems and it's widely accepted that "matter" and the separation of "objects" is an illusion; fantasies projected by the complex system of the human brain in order to make sense of its environment and itself. The essence of the universe was not the vastness of space to Birgit. It was infinitesimally small particles of everything. It was the fluidity of buildings, grass, air, fish, magma, umbilical cords.

So what information could a laser impart? People had theorized that people could read a book in a second, and watch all nine hours of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy in a moment.

But Birgit thought about more than Holden Caulfield and Hobbits. No, Birgit thought about unlocking the truth of the Universe; allowing people to see beyond the illusion of matter, to see the pure white light of every particle there is and was. The uses of revolutionizing the brain, of teaching it to process the world in a wholly new way, were boggling.

As Birgit walked up her steps and retrieved her keys she thought about how she'd been connected to Steve Rogers even before they met. Before opening the door she paused and touched her fingers to her lips and remembered the kisses and how they'd joined in the illusion. It was a feeling not unlike the feeling she had the moment she found the first promising calibration.

Birgit shoved inside and walked swiftly to set her purse down in the proper place. She skipped into the bedroom to kick off her shoes and take a shower.

But then the doorbell rang.

Birgit quirked an eyebrow at the weird timing and stomped down the hall to the door. She stared at the small black and white screen featuring her caller on the steps downstairs. Her breath caught in her throat. Though she didn't know the serious man who stood on her doorstep, she felt arrested by the resolved look in his _eye._


	13. Chapter 13

"Who's calling?" Birgit asked with a perky voice in the hopes of charming the man in the eyepatch and a long coat. His look remained serious. She didn't like this one bit.

"Miss Wolf?" the man asked with a firm tone.

"This is she. Who are you?" She let go of the intercom button and looked closer at the screen. Her caller suddenly broke his gaze on the intercom and stared like a cyclops right into the camera. She shivered.

"Miss Wolf, I'm Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." He stood still. When she did not respond he sighed and reached into his bag to retrieve a folder. He held it up to the camera such that Birgit could see the label: "B. Wolf Biographical Report."

Birgit felt her stomach reject the pizza and she ran for the bathroom, throwing up violently into the toilet. She shook intensely and was unable to muster tears through the fear. Only a minute or two passed. But when Birgit began to settle, the intercom buzzed again. And again.

"What do I do?" Birgit fumbled with her thoughts. She rested on her knees and flushed the toilet without standing. "How can I get rid of him? What does he want? How much could he know, really?" She furrowed her brow. She suspected that S.H.I.E.L.D would be thoroughly thorough.

Birgit ran briefly through memories she hadn't considered since she was ten years old. There'd been no use remembering. There'd been no use taking that old life with her when she came to The New World.

There was no avoiding a man named Fury she resolved. There was no escape. And in reality, the man at the door was not likely there to throw her into the lion's den. He appeared to have come alone. So there she was. The envelope of her life was finally unsealed.

So Birgit brushed her teeth and washed her face. She wasted some time as the intercom buzzed and buzzed and buzzed.

Finally she found the door. She released the lock downstairs with a groan and watched as the man entered into the hallway. She could feel him ascend the stairs. She could feel him getting closer. What did he think? What did he want?

He knocked. She hesitated.

"Miss Wolf, please let me in."

She placed her hand on the lock and looked up, considering latching the chain.

"Miss Wolf, _please_ let me in." She could hear his patience waning.

She sneered like a child and took a hard breath before opening the door.

He was way too tall. He looked way too serious. She looked at him consuming her doorway. She wanted to crumple into his arms and have him say soothing things, consoling her and assuring her that he just wanted to be friends because she's so awesome.

In the end she said nothing and simply stood out of his way to let him enter. She gestured for the counter where she had espresso too late at night.

"Coffee? Tea?" She croaked. Being polite couldn't hurt.

"No, thank you."

"Please sit." He took a seat on a stool and she pulled one out opposite him, wishing that he'd agreed to coffee so she would have something to focus on while he talked.

"Miss Wolf, I think you've gathered why I'm here."

"Not really," she snapped. True.

He sighed, "I think you trust that I'm not here to harm you. Either that or you trust that you wouldn't let me." Her eyebrows rose. He pinched his lips together and sighed again.

"So what do you want then, Director?" She tried to force a smile, but felt her eye twitch.

"You're defending your dissertation in two weeks." He confirmed. She nodded. "We want you to work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You're shitting me!" She blurted. Then she recoiled and blushed. "Sorry..." She whispered.

Fury actually smirked, but she didn't see. "Your research has possibilities. It's a viable alternative to the methods of _Gehirn-Labor._"

The name. The words. She had never said them. She had read/heard/lived/breathed them. At Fury's fair pronunciation she shivered, shook. For a moment it was violent. The building rumbled.

Fury didn't move. "Been a while since the last earthquake, I'd venture." She looked up. He seemed so knowing.

"More viable," she whispered oddly.

"Less Evil." His gaze on her was steady. She sighed a small smile. That phrase. She studied his face, mulled over his words. No one had ever said the word Evil. No one. But she'd felt it.

"I can't..." She looked down.

"They will not find you, Miss Wolf."

"Birgit," she corrected spontaneously.

"Birgit." He laid down the Report on the counter and slid it over to her. He opened it and there in a stack was a series of mugshots. One after the other. Directors, doctors, techs, nurses...

"Henrik Kohler hung himself with his belt when agents arrived for him. His journal was found detailing his ongoing paranoia over having yet to find you." Fury closed the file.

"Tragic." Birgit felt small muscle twitches in her face.

"The rest, those that are living, are facing extensive charges. With your help and that of Ilsa Spielman -"

"You talked to Ilsa?" She spat. The building rumbled. They both paused.

"Two in a night. How long has it been?" He didn't answer her question. Birgit looked down at the floor.

"Prom," she giggled.

He smiled a moment, again without her knowing."We have spoken to Ilsa. We asked that she not contact you before we did. Otherwise," he continued, "these men and women will face justice. It's a bit late, but then it was behind the Wall. If you hadn't become of interest to S.H.I.E.L.D, we might have never known." He rang his hands, mulling over his next question. "Forgive me, but how did you and your adoptive family get out of the country?"

Birgit's face was still as the whole tale sank in. But she whispered, "We flew."

When she focused on him, he legitimately smiled. It changed his whole face.

Birgit sighed, melancholy and grateful. She stared at Fury, who seemed to be waiting for her to say something further. But without much thought for words she lept up and rounded the counter, throwing her arms around the Director. He sat and let her hug him. He furrowed his brow, but then released it with a touch of softness.

Birgit regained herself and walked back to her seat without looking at Fury again. She considered coffee, but remembered her early morning. "I have to be up early to go to the Lab."

Fury nodded. "Are you interested in viewing the proposal from S.H.I.E.L.D?"

She nodded.

"Sony patented the possible technology to transmit information into the brain via a laser."

"Simple information," she corrected.

He raised an eyebrow, "Yes. Much more simple than what you hope to achieve - for medical science and beyond." He leaned back, "To unlock the secrets of the Universe..."

"It's not to make people like me." She looked up at him.

"But that's possible," he retorted. "You're telling me that hasn't crossed _your_ mind, of all minds?" He raised his eyebrows with a definite, _"Do I look stupid"_ edge to his expression. Birgit frowned.

"Men and women who wanted to make people like me drove to horrible lengths -"

"Yet they succeeded." He interrupted.

Birgit held her words, didn't breathe. She felt fury at Fury - an unusual feeling for Birgit. "Injecting infants eight times a day in the temple and along the spine with needles manufactured for god-damn horses until they inevitably _died_, and I'm the ONE god-damn success!" She slammed a fist down on the counter. But the building didn't shake.

"You have good control when you're angry - but not afraid." He slid another folder over to her. "This is the proposal. We see the value in your research. And we also see the value in your skills, as a scientist and a telekinetic."

"Fuck!" She clamped her hands over her eyes. "I HATE that word! _Telekinese! Ich hasse...! Hasse..._" She rambled beyond understanding.

"I'm sorry," Fury leaned back. "I won't lie to you and say that we aren't interested in testing what you can do, seeing the extent of it. We're in the business of the unique." He folded his hands on the counter.

"I don't know why I was the one that lived." She shook her head and wiped away the one tear that fell.

"But here you are. And you've used what they forced upon you for good." He patted the folder. "You will have a lab and an ample budget for your research. You can handle your own staff, following our background checks, of course. I suspect the soon-to-be Dr. Emma Wilson will be on that list in a year." He stood and nodded. "We are having a briefing tomorrow that I'd like you to attend."

"Tomorrow? So soon?" She put her hands on both folders, weighing each.

"Job offers will be knocking on your door just as ours has. I don't like to waste time." He waited.

"What time tomorrow?" She looked at him with a small hope in her eyes.

"The briefing is at 3pm. Please arrive at 2 so you can see what will be your lab. The address information is there in the offer. Consider this an opportunity to see what we're offering."

"There's no way I could be an Avenger," she offered spontaneously. "I could see you thinking that..." she began, "I mean, the idea fits the bill - throwing bad guys around with my mind. But I'm not brave. I can't fight." She raised her eyebrows and shot him a sorrowful look.

He smiled, "From what's in that report, I'd disagree. However, we are not recruiting you for the Avengers Initiative. We want to see what you discover, and what you can do, Doctor."

"I'm not a Doctor, yet." She smiled softly.

"Pure semantics, Birgit." She was pleased he didn't need as much reminding as Steve. Oh shit. Steve.

"I suggest you tell him," It was as if Fury read her mind. "He'll be at the briefing."

Birgit scrunched up her face, "Hey, now, I'll say 'fuck you' for that! You're meddling in my personal life here -"

Fury interrupted her by raising a hand, "It should have occurred to you that dating Captain America would have ramifications -"

"RAMIFICATIONS?" She spat.

"Yes: RAMIFICATIONS," he reflected with more attitude. "You're in the spotlight, Birgit." He lifted his chin. "There's no going back, I'm afraid." He lowered his gaze at her again.

"Okay," she said automatically. "Goodnight, Director." He reposed without reaction a moment. So she stood and walked passed him. "Goodnight, Director." She held the door for him and he stopped just in front of her.

"He will want to defend you. It's his nature. Remind him you don't need defending."

Birgit watched him walk fluidly down the hall and down the stairs. She slipped into the old feeling of having no body. She focused and wondered if it had been a dream. But when she returned to the kitchen, the reports lay side by side. There was no going back.


	14. Chapter 14

"What's up?" Emma cooed, overly awake at the lab.

"I'm not coming in tomorrow morning."

"Why not?" Emma was immediately grumpy.

Birgit sighed, "I have some shit to take care of that just came up. I promise I'll explain it all later. Don't give me any grief, please."

Emma sat up at the seriousness in her friend's voice, "What is it? Do you want me to come over? Whose ass do I have to beat?" She softened when she heard Birgit giggle.

"Nobody's yet. But keep your baseball bat handy. I'll talk to you tomorrow night, okay?" Birgit gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles were white.

Emma was silent a moment. "Did shit just get real?"

Birgit released the counter. She sighed. "Yeah, dude. Shit just got real."

"Man, okay," Emma rubbed her forehead. "You give me a heads up whenever, okay? I'm staying home tomorrow then."

"Hey, day off."

"I'd rather you come in and tell me you're okay and just won a cruise or something."

Birgit laughed, "Boy, howdy, we should do that some day."

"Let's plan it after you tell me your 'real shit,' okay?"

"Okay, lady. Will do."

"Hang tough," Emma commanded.

"Stay loose." Birgit heard the other line click and the screen of her phone illuminated Emma's departure.

The second call loomed.

It loomed.

And loomed.

Finally Birgit could no longer put it off. It was getting late. She couldn't let him see her stroll into whatever fancy-ass conference room they had set up in Manhattan with no explanation. That would be a dick move. So Birgit resolved not to be a dick.

"Hello?" Steve's voice was sweet and sleepy. Birgit smiled and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Hey, it's me, Birgit."

"Oh hey... Is something wrong?" His tone picked up.

"No, not really. We have to talk though. In person." Steve, sitting on the other end of the line in his bed, flexed his brow.

"Are you sure you're okay? I'll come to you." He got to his feet and moved toward the closet.

"I can come to you if you'd rather. I don't want to put you out." She rubbed her temple.

"Birgit, something's wrong. I'm coming."

"Okay. Everything's okay." With that they hung up.

Rogers ran a hand through his hair. A million scenarios sped through his head. What was it? Did she get a teaching job someplace far away? Did she not want to see him anymore? Did somebody die? Was there a secret?

Cap shook his head and pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He put little thought into the process of dressing. All he knew was that he had to go, and quickly. He'd take his motorcycle and be there in minutes.

He thought of bringing a second helmet for her. He loved to feel her hug him as they rode together, hear her laugh if he took a corner a little too fast, and see her take the helmet off and shake her hair out.

Perhaps the news wasn't bad. Perhaps they'd take a cleansing ride after the night rolled into morning.


	15. Chapter 15

"Hey there," Birgit smiled softly as she leaned against the door, letting Rogers inside.

"Hey, I got here as fast as I could," He turned and hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He thought her shampoo smelled good.

"That was sweet of you. I really promise I'm fine," She moved to the kitchen and sat at the table, rather than the counter. The two reports sat in the middle, face down.

"Okay, I believe you." He didn't believe her.

She sighed as he sat and looked at her fingers. The cuticles were frayed from worry. "I just have to tell you something..." She couldn't look up. "Something has happened..." Steve leaned forward, wishing she'd just get to the point. He didn't want to rush her, but she remained quiet for too long.

"Am I going to feel betrayed?" His fingers were clenched. He wondered if she had lied to him this whole time. Who was she? She'd kept something from him. The question was whether or not that was something nefarious.

"Oh no!" She shook her head and took his hand. But then she thought better of it. "Well..." She looked down. His eyes widened. "I don't think you will feel betrayed," she began as she looked up. "I mean, it's not something bad. It's just...I'm not _really_ who you think I am..."

Steve leaned back, preparing himself. "You're not?"

"No..." Birgit didn't know where to begin. So she reached over and picked up her biographical report. She turned it and passed it to him.

"What?" He looked at the title, and the logo of S.H.I.E.L.D. "What is this?"

"Director Fury was here tonight. He brought me this..." Birgit patted the folder. Cap was yet unable to touch it.

"Fury was here?" What would he want with you? Why would he come here?" He was becoming more suspicious and distrusting of Birgit by the second. What was her game?

"He came here to offer me a job, actually," She couldn't help but giggle.

"What? A job?" Steve took an internal step back. Okay, if Fury wanted her to work with them, then she was not likely a villain.

"Yeah... well... uh..." Birgit rubbed the back of her neck. "Okay, Steve, you gotta give me a break on this explanation. I have literally not spoken of this in almost twenty years. Literally. Not a word."

Steve took her hand, "You can be straight with me."

Birgit took in a deep breath. She wasn't even sure if she could explain it in English. The German overtook her. She'd not been home since she'd left. She'd not often spoken her native language. But there, that night, it was almost consuming. Birgit studied Cap's face. She felt he was so infinitely better than her. For all that had happened, the best she could do with her tragedy was spend most of her life grinding away at her education, fiddling with gadgets and gizmos in labs. Her scientific dreams would most likely remain theoretical until she reached old age. Birgit was brave, but only under duress. She was not the type to launch out into the world, to be a hero.

"Well... okay..." Birgit thought of Oliver Twist. _I am born, _she whispered internally. She decided to start at the beginning. "Steve... I was born in East Germany... behind The Wall." She paused to allow Steve to nod. He enjoyed when he was actually familiar with a modern reference, so Birgit liked to give him those moments of triumph.

She continued, saying, "My name is not Birgit..." His face remained expressionless. "My parents aren't really my parents. They... adopted me I guess..."

"You're an orphan?" Steve interrupted.

Birgit shrugged, "I am. I was. My real name is #181." She paused, having never ever introduced herself before.

Steve blinked, "What?"

"I was 'adopted' by a lab corporation called _Gehem-Labor_. It's all here in this file...Fury found it all out..." a tear slid down her cheek. Steve wiped it away.

"Please...you can tell me..." he urged.

She looked up, "This company was focused on researching ways of inciting psychic evolution in humans to be used as a weapon. They wanted to see if they could somehow engineer a human being to be telepathic, empathic, pyrokenetic... telekinetic..." Birgit paused.

"They tested on you." He felt gripped with malice at the faceless lab Birgit briefly described.

"They tested on infants, nearly 300. There were systematic injections, radiation exposure, and even experimentation with sound wave bombardment."

"What the hell happened?" Steve interrupted, his anger percolating.

"They all died. The sound experiments left subjects deaf until dying of brain hemorrhages -" Steve shuddered at her description of babies as _subjects_ "- radiation filled them with tumors, and the injections poisoned most of them..."

They were silent a moment as Steve processed what it all meant. "But not you," he concluded.

"No." She smiled and shook her head. "I lived..."

"So it worked." Steve's eyebrows rose.

"Yes, it worked. I was their only success... Scores of babies and children dead. And then me." She opened the folder and looked down at all the photos. She'd not looked through the pages yet, unable to do so by herself. But in that moment she did. Flipping through she gazed at her own X-Rays, brain scans, lab reports, and one photo of her strapped to a table with needle probes sticking out of her temples. Steve saw the photo, too.

"Oh god. Oh my god, Birgit," He rubbed his eyes. She didn't know what else to say, so they remained quiet. Finally Steve repeated his earlier conclusion: "It worked."

"It did."

"What can you do?"

"I'm telekinetic." She bit her lip. He stared.

"So you can move things with your mind." Steve struggled to process it. "How the hell did you get out of there? Wouldn't they have cut you up to figure out how they did it? By god, that's what Hitler's animals did!"

"Yes. They would have." She looked down. "I escaped." She felt proud of it for the first time in her entire life.

"How?" He shook his head and then interrupted, "How did they keep you there at all afterward? I mean, you could blast them out of your way!"

"They kept me heavily sedated following the development of my abilities during their painful testing. I was kept generally docile and afraid. They made me believe they were stronger than I was." She took an angry breath, angry for the first time in years.

"You escaped, though," Steve urged.

"A nurse in the lab, Ilsa... she cared about me... and hated them when she found out all they'd done." She smiled and looked at an old picture of Ilsa within the report. "She told me that she had to get me out, that they were going to kill me eventually because they couldn't figure out the secret..." Birgit looked at the ceiling before continuing, "She told me she'd stop sedating me, but I had to act drugged. Then one night she'd make sure everyone was out of the building and I would escape... I would take her and her family over The Wall and then her sister and husband would take me to America... save me..." She looked into Steve's face.

"How old were you?" He was chewing on his finger.

"Ten."

"Damn. Damn, damn." He slapped the table and then flicked the folder shut, unable to bear looking at the photos any longer. "You got out, though. What happened to the lab?"

Birgit smiled, "I flattened the place." Steve's eyes widened. "I tore it down to dust, the whole thing. Destroyed."

"And the people who killed all of those babies?" He feared the answer.

"Jail now, finally. But that fucking Director...That fucker... he killed himself when Fury's agents went for him."

"Fury?" Steve sat forward.

"Yes, Steve. By golly, after he found out about me, he took them all down. All of them. Except the Director Kohler. That fuck killed himself rather than face the music." In that moment she also slapped the folder and turned away from Cap.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, "This is quite a load you've been carrying. Does anyone know?"

"No," Birgit concluded without even a thought. "Nobody but my parents and Ilsa. My brother doesn't know, Emma doesn't know, nobody knows... Not until now anyway..." Cap smiled and stood, feeling tears sting his eyes. He grabbed Birgit out of her chair and held her, burying his nose in her hair.

"You're completely safe now..." He sighed.

She found his warmth both comforting and oppressive. She was not yet finished with her story. "Steve," she whispered so he'd put her down. He complied silently and took his seat again.

"Steve," she said again. "Fury wants me to continue my research at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"They want to use you?" He clenched, fearing that they hoped to weaponize her just as the murderers before had.

"No, no. I don't think so. You can look at the offer..." She slid the folder to him. "They want to fund and support my laser research."

"Why?" Steve looked over the documents.

"To unlock the secrets of the universe!" She giggled.

"Not funny..." Steve mumbled as he read.

"Oh, come on. It is! This is a _good_ thing, I think. I get to stay in New York, I get tons of mad cash, and I can actually let that part of me be seen..." She patted his hand.

Cap looked away from the words, "So, are you going to do it?"

"I think so..."

"So, you'll be at their base?"

"Yeah. I go see my lab tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?" Steve shook his head in surprise. "Fury works fast."

"He sure does. He says there's a briefing I have to go to with you guys..."

"Ah, so _that's_ the briefing" Steve scoffed and then laughed.

He ran a hand through his hair. When he looked at Birgit, the mischief in his eyes made her blush. He couldn't be mad. Cap did wonder if he owed Fury another ten bucks. And then, finally, he thought about Tony. "Of course you're special," he began. "Given how I feel about this, when Tony meets you tomorrow he'll eat his hat."

Birgit burst into laughter. She nearly doubled over. Steve merely waited. She coughed. "You're just too sweet..."

He smiled, looking as if he had more to say. He mulled it over and then said, "I've seen some crazy things, learned some crazy things. It's strange that I'd learn another with you... But at least it's not terrible..." He took a breath, "So... demonstration...? Or is that rude?" He leaned forward, trying to lay on the charm.

She was charmed. But instead of replying she began to float out of her chair. Cap marveled at the magic, but broke his gaze from her as he, too, began to float...

"Shall we have a tea party on the ceiling?" Birgit giggled. Cap didn't understand the reference, but he declined to respond. He merely did a breast stroke and swam to her. They laughed and embraced, descending gracefully onto the pergo floor.

"That's a fun trick," he whispered to her as they danced to the silence.

"I think the trick of taking all of your clothes off without touching you is better," she squeeked softly when he ran his hand up her shirt.

"Now, doll, why in the world would I want you _not_ to touch me?" They giggled together and kissed delicately. Though Cap felt very pleased that the revelation was not tragic, he was still suspicious of Fury and his intentions. But given what he'd learned that night and what he knew of her from all the other nights, he felt that Birgit would not need a shield.


	16. Chapter 16 (The end)

The first day of the rest of a telekinetic's life? Birgit could barely contain herself. Her research was nearly finished, she had a wonderful new partner who could bench-press a dump truck while saying something old-fashioned and sweet, and now she was going to pursue new physics with spies.

Spies. That morning she had cackled and cackled. Though having lived a secret her whole life, it'd begun to seem true. It was all true in a certain respect, like the Marquis de Carabas. But now it was all out. Now anything was possible.

"#181 is dead. Good morning Agent Birgit!" She giggled into the mirror. Then she started to cry. "#181 is dead..."

She fixed her hair, fixed her suit, fixed her stare, and moved out into the morning. How do you find a spy agency? Google Maps.

"We have engineers that are well-qualified to help you build your equipment," a dark-skinned agent with dyed red hair interjected as Birgit sat on a stool silently.

The lab was white and clean. It was windowless, but the lighting wasn't a glaring fluorescent. It was open and inviting. A counter ran along the right wall and two heavy black-topped tables stood in the middle of the room. Otherwise the space was neutral. It was waiting like an anxious womb for Birgit's designs - her precious lasers and more.

"Director Fury said I could select my own staff," Birgit smiled.

The agent quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, "I'm sure." She looked away, "But know that it takes quite a bit to be cleared for service in S.H.I.E.L.D"

The agent's snootiness made Birgit bristle. "Anyone I recruit for this project will be likely more qualified than I am. Or you." She raised her eyebrows. The agent smirked, amused at being bested. After that they liked each other instantly.

"Very good," she replied and glanced down at the powerful tablet in her hand. "I have notes here that the briefing -" Birgit's eyes widened as the meeting grew closer, "- will conclude with Mr. Stark meeting with you. Should you elect this opportunity," the agent stood straighter with pride, "he will be directed to assist you in designing the proper computing system."

Birgit sighed, "Wowie wow."

The agent chuckled. "Alright, Miss Wolf," she walked towards the door. "The Director expects you in ten minutes."

"Will you show me a bathroom first?" Birgit knocked her knees together as she stood. The agent nodded and led her down the hall. A unisex restroom opened and locked like any normal door. Birgit admired the simplicity and practicality of the place.

When she looked in the mirror she laughed at the wonder on her face. Her lip trembled, her stomach fluttered. In moments she'd face something wholly unknown. Would Fury reveal her secret immediately? How would Tony Stark be involved in the project, if at all?

"Shit." She thought of something that hadn't occurred to her before.

Did they want her to build weapons of mass destruction?

Birgit shook the idea away. S.H.I.E.L.D didn't raise any red flags for her yet. After all, The Avengers were heros. Heros wouldn't work for an Evil entity planning to control through technological hostility.

And even if they did. Even if S.H.I.E.L.D planned to use her, they would fail.

She resolved it: They Would Fail.

Her thoughts shot to Steve Rogers. In her mind she babbled on to him like she would Emma. The night before they played together childishly. He pitt his physical strength over her mental prowess. He ran for her and she pushed him back. Their competitive lifting left them laughing and panting into the early hours.

They lay together naked and open. She giggled and rambled. She told him stories about the times she failed to conceal herself - how she got drunk at prom and shook the hotel when she tripped on her own feet and scared herself half to death.

After dabbing her face with a tissue and inspecting her outfit. She wore a black designer suit, which was on super-sale because of a ripped seam. It fit her perfectly after tailoring and repair, and under it she wore a white Oxford shirt and a chunky jade necklace. Birgit left the bathroom.

The same smirking agent stood waiting. Without a word they continued on their way. Birgit swallowed a butterfly and raised her chin toward the unknown.

"And here is Miss Wolf, soon to be doctor and hopefully a new researcher here." Fury introduced her with precise timing that she was shocked. She'd only just walked through the door. He'd prepped. He was a man who was always prepped.

There at the table: Avengers.

_Holy shit, Avengers!_ Birgit had to clench her gut to restrain a "squee." They each sat in a very commanding position.

"Greetings, good lady." The glorious blond began, "I am Th-"

"Hey." Cap interrupted. Thor turned and stared. It was a hard stare. Cap didn't look away. He just cocked an eyebrow. Thor grunted and nodded at Birgit before taking his seat.

"Will you beat me up if I say hi, too?" Stark lofted out of his chair, smirking over his shoulder at Steve Rogers.

"My dear, Birgit," He took her hand and shook it while he talked, "I have to say that I am a fan of your work here." He waved a tablet at her which featured her Thesis - which was as far as she knew unavailable publicly. "It's extremely fascinating. And now we find out that you're telekinetic, too, on top of it all? I did not know that actually existed. But of course Fury finds you." Then he turned, "But wait, he didn't; Cap did. Good job, Cap!" He held a fist in solidarity. "Also, I really liked your Ravenclaw robes, and the Cap uniform was both extremely sexy and perfectly hilarious. Thank you for giving me the material I need to torture your boyfriend forever." With that he clapped, "Welcome to the spy agency!"

Birgit hadn't said a word. She had barely heard the flurry of compliments and jabs he'd spat at her. But Fury did, "Miss Wolf has not actually accepted this offer -–-"

"–-I do!" she interrupted. Fury stopped, his face either annoyed or satisfied. She couldn't tell which. He nodded.

With that nod, Captain America threw out a "Ha!" before putting his hand over his mouth to hide the grin.

"There!" Tony punctuated, "Now let's go build your lab and shoot lasers at stuff. You can canoodle with Rogers later."

But it wouldn't be later. As each member of the team shook her hand and she found herself floating down another hallway, she felt big firm hands wrap around her waist.

"I can't believe this had a happy ending," he whispered gently. He held her a moment, breathing in her hair.

"Me too... Dinner's on me." She turned to him and smiled. He hugged her and accepted. He thought about what all must happen next, what they would face, what Birgit's abilities would mean for S.H.I.E.L.D, the world, and for him. He could not imagine what threat would come next. He could not imagine what victories would be won by The Avengers. He could not imagine what would wait around every new corner. And, for once, maybe the first time, that felt just fine for him.


End file.
